


Banner Year

by srsly_yes



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-21
Updated: 2010-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srsly_yes/pseuds/srsly_yes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A forest isn't a good place for an oncologist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Banner Year

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Camp Sick!Wilson's banner challenge.
> 
> Disclaimer: House MD is not mine, never will be.

A half dozen pairs of beady eyes glowed back at him. Were they getting closer?

Flat on his back, Wilson gingerly pulled his cell out of his pocket trying not to scrape the denim over the swollen bee sting on the back of his hand. He squinted at the display, two bars, not enough. At least the battery was strong. A couple of taps and he waved the screen into the woods. Fewer eyes peered back.

Nervously checking his phone every few seconds, Wilson would have jumped for joy except for the pain in his leg and the object causing it. A big brother joined the baby bars. He punched in House's number.

"You're late. Chez Cowboy Chuck's served up the last order of ribs to some ugly hungry city slicker. Delicious, by the way." Loud lip smacking accompanied the remark.

"Thanks for the food review, House, but I got stuck—"

"What did you run into now, Boy Scout Wonder? Another anaconda sized garter snake?"

"Ha ha." Wilson tried to appreciate House's humor and not feel miffed that his voice betrayed no concern. "Actually, I didn't run into anything, but something ran into me. Wait!" Wilson stopped speaking to make out the sound--something not natural to the surroundings. "I hear an engine. Someone's coming. Hey! Over here!" Wilson began waving his arms, but heard a tinny sound coming from the phone. House was speaking. He interrupted the flow of chatter. "House there's—"

"Save your breath, Tarzan. An awesome 4x4 is heading straight your way. We tracked your phone signal."

No sooner than House finished his sentence, the area surrounding Wilson blazed with light.

House was kneeling next to him. There were shouts from other men, but Wilson couldn't see them.

"I hoped I'd find a moose-on-a Jew, but you got attacked by a tree?"

"I was trying to get away from a skunk when this tree toppled over."

House's wrinkled his nose. "You didn't outmaneuver either of them. Are you in pain?"

"Where the tree pinned my leg, but I don't think it's broken."

"The guys are moving it off now. I'll check the damage." House winked. "Stay right here."

* * *

Back at camp, Wilson sat up in bed eating cold, sauce-drenched ribs, his bandaged leg propped up on a pillow. The throbbing was uncomfortable but bearable thanks to the pills House insisted he take.

House stole an extra meaty bone from the plate. "Consider this payment for my suturing skills. When we get back to work, I'll lend you one of my canes until you're better. You can pretend you're me and terrorize your staff for a few days."

"Thanks, I'll pass on your offer and stay at home until I can walk. I don't want to hear all the tree-on-a-Jew jokes you're going to spread at the hospital."

"If you mean, Christmas tree-on-a-Jew jokes, you're too late." House dug out his phone and showed Wilson the screen. "I sent the photo to Chase. He photoshopped the lights for me. I convinced Cuddy to put on a 'Christmas in July' benefit for the oncology department. After she stopped laughing, she said she pay for all the posters and the banner over the front doors."


End file.
